


clear, sunlit, and barefoot

by lotts (LottieAnna)



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Exploration, F/M, Friendship/Love, Morning After, Podfic Available, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-05-19 07:30:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14869379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LottieAnna/pseuds/lotts
Summary: The morning after Dylan sleeps with Alex for the first time, he walks down into the kitchen, pajama pants hanging low on his hips and his steps heavy with sleep.





	1. (the first morning)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stonesnuggler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stonesnuggler/gifts).



> IF YOU FOUND THIS THROUGH GOOGLING, KNOW ANYONE MENTIONED IN THIS STORY PERSONALLY, OR ARE MENTIONED YOURSELF: please, please click away. This is a work of fiction and nothing written in this story is true. Any accurate information used in this story is publicly available information about public figures, the rest is made up, 100%.
> 
> because alex and dylan are in love, and because ria's been filling my head and my heart with thoughts of girl!alex for days, so i pretty much had to write this, because there's a lot of love in the world!

The morning after Dylan sleeps with Alex for the first time, he walks down into the kitchen, pajama pants hanging low on his hips and his steps heavy with sleep. His breath tastes like the morning and he’s crusty and itchy, the way he usually is when he first wakes up, but he forgoes brushing his teeth, because even the parts of them are new can’t erase the fact that they’re teammates, and he knows Alex knows his morning grossness. 

It’s almost normal for a second, when he first walks into the kitchen; she’s poised to fight the coffee maker, because she’s convinced it’s broken and will not hear otherwise, but she’s valiantly trying to make coffee anyway, which is good, because it silences the small nagging fear that’s been bothering Dylan since he woke up to the sound of her tiptoeing around his room, the bed still warm next to him where she’d fallen asleep, rudely depriving him of any morning cuddling. 

Not that he’d really been concerned about it. If Alex were to decide that this whole dating thing wasn’t worth it, she wouldn’t hide from him in their billets’ kitchen, and maybe it was stupid and romantic to think that she’d be down here making coffee for the two of them, but then again, lots of Dylan’s dreams have been coming true lately, so. 

“I can’t believe you’re facing your greatest nemesis for me,” Dylan says easily from the doorway. 

“I can’t believe you wouldn’t let me get them a Keurig as an anniversary present,” Alex shoots back, not looking up, and Dylan grins a little at that, then walks up behind her with every intention of doing something overwhelmingly stupid, like wrapping his arms around her and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. 

But Dylan’s slow to rise, so the morning hits him halfway across the kitchen, and he stops in his tracks when Alex comes into full view, because now that he’s close enough to see her and feel the morning air in the kitchen— 

Her hair is in a messy bun, which is normal, except she’d gathered that hair from Dylan’s pillow this morning before tying it lazily above her head. And it’s not the first time Dylan’s seen her in one of his shirts, but there’s something very different about it like this, knowing she’d grabbed it off his floor— he’s pretty sure it’s the one he was wearing yesterday, based on how newly stretched the fabric looks. It probably smells like him.  _ Alex  _ probably smells like him, if not from his shirt, then from his sheets, or from his skin being pressed to hers throughout the night. 

He can see the edges of a hickey poking over the collar, but it’s  _ his  _ collar, and  _ his  _ hickey, on Alex’s skin. He can make out one she’d left for him on his chest, remembers the way she’d giggled against him as she left it in an awkwardly low spot, because it was at the point when she’d been very concerned about nothing being visible under clothing, until he’d pointed out that they had nothing to hide, and that he wanted something to show off, a little. 

But the one right below his collarbone is nice, too. 

Most things about right now are nice. 

And the thing is, Alex is just standing there, hunched over the countertop and glaring at the coffee maker like she can intimidate it into submission, and she’s got traces of Dylan all over her, and it’s not even a possessive thing, but just— it’s so familiar, and so new, and so  _ much,  _ and Dylan realizes that he’s never been this happy before. 

It’s this thing he feels in his chest, almost like longing, the same ache from a different source. It’s not that he wants so much his heart is clenching around the emptiness, anymore— it’s that he’s got everything he could ever want, right now, in this moment, and his heart feels so full that it’s being pushed to capacity, strangling him and stinging his eyes and making him want all these things that are right in front of him, and they’re  _ not going away.  _

Dylan loves her. He loves her messy hair and the way her head fits right under his chest and the way she smiles so wide. He loves the way she’s Alex, and she’s his best friend, and now she’s his girlfriend, and he loves that he doesn’t have to give up one to get the other. Things are changing so much with them, and none of it feels scary, only good and exciting and ridiculously certain. 

Dylan used to think that love was like the feeling of the puck hitting the back of the net, or like lifting a trophy over your head. He’s realizing, in this moment, that love is like ice under your feet. Alex is inevitable, she’s constant, she’s incomparable and special and something Dylan could have every day for the rest of his goddamn life. 

“What’s up?” she says, turning to look at him, but she’s gotta be reading everything he’s feeling on his face, because she’s smiling the way Dylan feels. It’s big and it’s bright, like the sun gleaming softly on everything, and god, just—  _ god.  _

“You’re so pretty,” he says, which is the understatement of the century, but Dylan’s a few seconds from just collapsing under the weight of his own happiness. He walks over and brushes a strand of hair off her face, and it’s this close thing that might earn him a chirp for being sappy under normal circumstances, but right now, all Alex does is look at him hard, like he’s a lot to take in. 

Dylan’s not sure what he looks like right now. He’s not sure he could stand to look at someone who’s radiating every possible human emotion at full blast the way he probably is, but then again, Alex has always been tougher than him. 

“Stromer,” she says, fond and full, and Dylan just— he has to kiss her, he  _ has  _ to. 

There’s so many different kinds of magic in this, and so many different kinds of love. Dylan knows he’s in the honeymoon phase right now, but he thinks that even when they’ve been together for years and years—because they’re going to be together for years and years, it’s not even a question, in Dylan’s head—he’s still going to wake up in the morning and still be in awe of her, and that he fits into her life the same way she fits into his. If he makes her anywhere near as happy as she makes him, then he’s doing something good for the world. Alex should always be smiling, always be happy, always be  _ loved.  _

And Dylan gets to love her, Dylan loves her, and it’s only technically been a week, but— 

“I love you,” he says, resting his forehead against hers. “Oh my god, I love you so much.” 

“God,” she says, then does this breathy laugh. “Good morning to you too.” 

Dylan is smiling so hard he’s shaking, this whole-bodied happiness that’s catching in his throat. “Sorry, you’re just—” 

“I know,” she says, and then she presses a quick kiss to his lips that would be firm if it wasn’t equal parts dizzy and dizzying. “I mean, you’re— I love you too.” 

“This is the greatest,” Dylan says. “This is the best thing we’ve ever done.” 

“You haven’t even tried my coffee yet,” Alex says. 

“Don’t have to,” Dylan says, kissing her again, because he needs it as badly as he needs to breathe, right now. “I know your coffee’s shit.” 

“You’re mean,” she laughs. 

“I’m in love with you,” Dylan says. “I’m in  _ love  _ with you, Alex.” 

“Oh my god,” she says, and words are too much for both of them, so Dylan kisses her again, trying to make things just a little steadier. 


	2. (a first time)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dylan’s got Alex horizontal, a hand sneaking under the hem of her shirt, when he stops suddenly, pulls away, and blinks at her for a second before saying, “Should we talk about sex?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> consider this a prequel to the previous chapter
> 
> this was written in its entirety on ali's couch. thanks to ali and ria for reading this within minutes of me sending it their way. i love you both dearly but y'all probably already know that.

Dylan’s got Alex horizontal, a hand sneaking under the hem of her shirt, when he stops suddenly, pulls away, and blinks at her for a second before saying, “Should we talk about sex?”

Once upon a time, Alex would have laughed at him for being a wide-eyed raccoon with a mind that moves a mile a minute and a mouth that tries its hardest to keep up. This doesn’t seem like a time for even the fondest kind of light teasing, though, if Dylan’s belated blush is anything to go by. 

“Sure,” Alex says. “What about it?”

“Well, we’re dating now,” he says. 

“Yes.”

“So we’re probably— y’know. We might wanna do that, at some point,” Dylan says. 

“I’d like to,” Alex says. “If you want to, I mean.” 

Her face feels kind of hot, which is weird, because she’s imagined this conversation before, and it’s never been awkward in her head. It’s probably got something to do with the fact that Dylan seems nervous, and that’s not something she’d accounted for; he’s usually got a skill for talking through these kinds of things. Right now, though, he can’t stop fidgeting, like he’s also surprised that this conversation feels weird and isn’t sure what to do about it.  

“I want to,” he says. “It’s just— should we, like, talk about… y’know, our histories. Our experience.”

“Uh, what do you mean?”

“I don’t know.” Dylan is bright red now, all the way down to his chest, which Alex can see under his unbuttoned shirt. 

“What’s going on, dude?” 

“Nothing,” Dylan says. “I’m just saying we should have a mature conversation, because we’re, like, mature people. Adults. Whatever.”

“Pickle,” Alex says, poking him with her toe. “Tell me.”

“It’s not a big thing, it’s just— I’ve never had sex before.”

Oh. That’s what’s happening.

Usually, this would be a more delicate conversation, but she’s Alex, and this is Dylan, so she figures they can skip the first few lines of back and forth. “It’s okay to feel a little awkward about things sometimes.”

“But—“

“Even if they’re things you don’t want to feel awkward about.” She raises an eyebrow at him. 

He smiles, which is both expected and one hundred percent welcome. “I wish ‘let’s take it slow’ wasn’t, like— that kind of cliche, y’know?”

“Is that what you want?” Alex asks. “To take it slow?”

“I mean, I don’t want to make it weird because I’m nervous,” Dylan says. “We’ve been really good about avoiding that so far. The weirdness part.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I already know you’re a weirdo,” Alex says.

“But this is different,” Dylan says. “This is, like, newer than the kissing and the dating stuff.”

“Are you nervous about it?” Alex asks.

“I’m not sure,” Dylan says. “I’ve done some stuff before, just not, like— a ton of stuff. I mostly just wanted you to know that.”

“Well, it is now known,” Alex says, and then turns her head and looks at him, thoughtful. 

“What?” Dylan asks.

“I have an idea,” Alex says. 

“Hit me.”

“Well,” Alex says, “I was thinking we could get naked.”

Dylan looks at her, confused, but not skeptical. “How does that work into the whole ‘maybe taking it slow’ thing?”

“It’s not, like, a sexy thing,” Alex says. “But— you haven’t had sex before, and I have.”

“Right.” 

She looks for jealousy on Dylan’s face, but if there’s any there, she can’t see it. 

“The thing I was most nervous about— it wasn’t, like, the sex part? Just… being naked in front of her, in a sexy kind of way,” Alex says. “So, like, the fact that we’re already great at being naked around each other is already gonna make it easier, but let’s get used to naked like this.”

“I’m not sure if I get it,” Dylan says.

Alex flushes. “We don’t have to—”

“No, I like it, just— keep explaining,” Dylan says. 

“Well, it’s like— I used to think there were all these bases you had to get past first, right? But I just wish I’d done more… naked kissing? And touching? Without it being about— y’know.” She feels her face go hot. “Orgasms.”

Dylan nods. “Oh.”

“Yeah, never mind, it was—”

“If you say it was dumb, I’m calling you Lexi for a week,” Dylan says. “It’s a good idea.”

“Then why does this feel so awkward?” Alex groans, and tucks her face into the pillow a little. 

“I have no fucking clue,” Dylan says. “I thought being nervous about sex was a virgin thing.”

“No, it’s an everyone thing,” Alex says. 

“Yeah,” Dylan says. He’s still straddling her, eyes trailing up and down her body, not quite checking her out, but just— exploring, Alex thinks. “God, I really do like you a lot.”

“Right back at ya, pal,” Alex says, grinning through the blush. 

Dylan puts a hand under her shirt again, resting his thumb on the waistband of her jeans. “I think we should get naked.”

“You sure?”

He nods. “It’s not as bad being nervous when we’re nervous together.”

“You’re such a sap,” she says, with a little laugh that’s more incredulous than anything else. 

“If you don’t want me to say sappy things, you should kiss me and shut me up.”

Alex considers chirping him, but words feel heavy in her mouth, so instead, she pulls him in until their mouths slot together, pushing his shirt off his shoulders for good measure as he starts to unbutton her pants.

It’s frantic, and Alex is surprised to find that her hands are shaking a little, but she doesn’t want to stop. 

“Don’t laugh at me if I cover my boobs,” Alex blurts out, but she doesn’t stop kissing him for long enough to do more than gasp it out before their mouths are pressed together again.

“Noted,” Dylan says, and Alex doesn’t so much hear the word as feel him murmur it into her mouth before he starts to kiss her neck, and she tilts her head back and moans. 

He slips his fingers into the belt loops of her jeans, looking at her for confirmation before he starts to slide them off. She shifts her hips up, a little desperate, and suddenly aware that Dylan’s kind of hard, and she’s kind of wet, and, damn, they really do like each other a lot. 

“I know we said naked kissing,” Dylan says, as the two of them fumble with his belt. “But if it turns into more—”

“That’ll be fine, but, like, no pressure,” she says. “Just touch me? However you want?”

“Fuck, yeah,” he says, and the way it’s a little breathy goes right to her head. “Same goes for you.”

“You sure?” 

Dylan nods, and before Alex can ask, he says, “I promise I’ll tell you if it’s too fast.”

“I’ll be cautious,” Alex says, because honestly, she’s not sure how what she wants plays into what Dylan’s okay with quite yet. 

“Figured you would,” Dylan says. “Would it be lame if I asked too many questions?”

“You know what I’m gonna say.”

“It’s not any lamer than the rest of me?”

“Bingo,” Alex says, lying back and letting her head thump back on the pillow when they finally manage to get Dylan’s fly open. “You’re my favorite when you’re lame.”

Dylan gets up and takes off his pants, then, after a second of hesitation, his boxers too. 

Alex stares for a second, then sits up and takes off her shirt, instinctively crossing her arms across her chest for a second before she takes a deep breath and lets them drop, reaching one out to pull Dylan back to the bed. 

“Uh,” she says, then guides his hands to the waistband of her panties. “If you want.”

Slowly, he nods, then lets his eyes linger on her mostly-naked body, focused curiosity now mixed with wonder and hunger and something that might be the beginnings of love. 

She tries not to overthink it. 

He pulls them down, not frantic like before, and she shifts to throw her legs over the side of the bed, which means that by the time they’re both fully naked, Dylan is kneeling in front of her, underwear in hand, and Alex has got to be bright red everywhere, feeling a little like her skin is on fire. 

“So,” Alex says, tilting Dylan’s head up despite her own embarrassment, because nervous together is the point of all this. “What’re you thinking?”

“Uh,” Dylan says, looking a little dazed. “That you’re beautiful, obviously—”

“Oh my god,” Alex says, breathy and nervous and smiling despite it. 

“Also that I don’t know where I want to touch you first.”

Alex’s breath catches. “Dyl—”

“Just— fuck, everywhere,” Dylan says. “Do we have time for me to touch you everywhere?”

“I think so,” Alex somehow manages to say. “How about you start by kissing me first, and we’ll see where it goes from here.”

It feels like the two of them are about to combust, but Alex sort of loves it, and also, sort of loves him. Or, totally loves him, even if it’s still a little too early to say that out loud. 

“Yeah,” Dylan exhales, then leans in and kisses her as they get used to the feeling of their skin pressed together like this.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] Clear, Sunlit, and Barefoot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18007781) by [Annapods](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annapods/pseuds/Annapods)




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